Trials And Tribulations
by Jasminta Blossom
Summary: On the occasion of her cousin's wedding, Beatrix meets Benedick, a Paduan bachelor who has also sworn off love. As she deals with some shocking truths about her family, her brother's fiancé hides a certain English heiress, unaware that she too has her own inheritance. Can they all pull together to save their fortunes and future happiness? An instalment of the Child Swap series.
1. It Begins

Welcome to what I believed is the sixth instalment of the Child Swap series! This time, we are tackling Much Ado About Nothing, along with incorporating elements and storylines from Richard III, one of Shakespeare's history plays. We'll be meeting some new OCs, and carrying on some previous storylines from the previous instalment, Family Ties. Sorry for the long wait, I have been very busy the past year with university work and just life in general.

I'd also just like to mention that although Richard and his family were actually genuine historical people, the rest of the Shakespearean cast are not. Preference is given to Shakespearean characters who are stated to be the ruler of the land rather than the actual historical ruler in the same time period as Richard, which is why Don Pedro is the Prince of Aragon, and not John II. Don Pedro also explains that the actual rulers of the period are his cousins, so that it still makes sense for the other historical characters to exist, as they were all related in some way or another!

I also need to give a warning here - there will also be a side story male-male romance in this story. If you feel uncomfortable with same-sex relationships, then this is not the story for you. Go and read some classic R&J!

A special thanks goes to Moon Lantern, who helped me out with the storylines borrowed from Richard III, and who also has his own tribute character. Keep an eye out for him!

Another special thanks goes to RichardIII1955, for letting me bombard you with scenes and giving me great feedback, as always!

And last but certainly not least, a special thanks goes out to Cornadopia. Thank you, as always, for letting Allegra join the cast! The middle section of this chapter is dedicated to you, and I hope you like the mischief and adventures she gets up to in this story!

Lastly, I'd like to thank all the wonderful reviewers who have been with me every step of the way, plus some newcomers. You rock!

* * *

><p><em>September, 1997<br>__Zaragoza, Aragon, Spain_

The hot Spanish sun beat down on the city of Zaragoza. In the home of the Duartes, every window and door was flung open, and every fan was beating as fast as it could. The ice in the drinks disappeared within seconds, and no one had an appetite for the refreshments scattered around.

Prince Don Pedro stood watching the old grandfather clock tick in the hallway. It was like a death sentence, counting down the minutes until she left. He wanted this leaving party to be over, so he could go home and punch his pillow in his rage, yet he never wanted it to end. Because when the party ended, he'd have to say goodbye to the most intelligent, hilarious, opinionated and politically savvy girl he'd ever met.

Why would she want to leave Zaragoza? She'd lived and attended school here since she was eleven. All her friends were here, and her father's family. Why break those links to go and live in an Italian city state torn apart by feuding noble families?

"It will be an amazing experience for you," Pedro overhead one of her aunts say.

"I know, I simply can't wait to be back in Verona. Sometimes I worry that my Italian has grown a little rusty."

"You are a clever girl, you'll be speaking your mother's language fluently within your first week," her mother laughed.

"But don't forget to visit," added her father.

"Of course not!"

But Pedro knew she would. She would get busy, get stuck in some business or another, and she wasn't the sort of girl who looked back on things.

He wandered from room to room, where he was greeted by various classmates. They had all gathered to the party to say farewell to her. They were all disappearing off to universities across Aragon, across Spain, but she was the only one to leave the country completely.

Finally, Pedro found himself in a back room with her youngest sister, Santana, as she cooled down in front of an electric fan, watching the telly. Santana was arguably the prettiest of the Duarte girls, with bold dark eyes, a sweet smile, dimples, and dark curled ringlets.

"I'm so pleased for her," she chattered eagerly, "When I study to become a doctor, I'm going to go to university in Verona too. I miss Italy"

"You'll be an excellent doctor," said Pedro kindly.

"Thank you, your grace!"

"You don't have to call me that," Pedro dismissed, "It's not a formal occasion"

"Oh. Elvira said we were supposed to."

"Elvira does not know me as well as your eldest sister," explained Pedro, "Will you miss her?"

"Of course," said Santana, "But I can phone her, and she can come and visit at Christmas. Will you visit her then too?"

"I hope so."

_'__She won't come home, and you should know this better than me.' _

Pedro left Santana to the television, and walked back to the crowd of classmates.

_'__You are a prince, Pedro, and there will be others. She is not the only woman in the world. She's not highborn enough for you, anyway. You will meet other women, and you will marry and create a powerful alliance and produce an heir for Aragon.'_

The evening had grown late, and the adults soon retired to allow the young people to enjoy their evening in each other's company. The evening cooled, and soon a breeze blew through each end of the house. Pedro helped himself to wine, hoping to distil the gnawing pain inside of him.

_'__She might not be highborn enough to be your wife, but she's the very definition of how a princess should be. Dignified, intelligent, calm under pressure, a shrewd politician. Why could she not at least stay in Zaragoza, and work for me instead? Aragon was bigger than Verona, surely it would be more of a challenge, and didn't she like a challenge?'_

Finally, he stood alone on the veranda, gazing out over Zaragoza. Pedro wanted to be a good prince, and he knew he had a duty to his people above all, but couldn't he just use his power to make himself happy for once?

"Aren't you enjoying yourself, your grace?" asked that familiar smooth voice. She had a low voice, for a woman, but it was calm, and steady, and everyone stopped to listen and pay attention.

"You don't have to call me that."

"But I will, now that we are no longer classmates."

"Why do you have to leave me?" Pedro demanded, "You know I can offer you opportunities. A job in the government, money, power, whatever you want. A place at the University of Zaragoza. Any university in Aragon. Anyone you want. What has Verona got that I can't give you?"

She did not reply, but the buzzing of the television in the room behind her broke the silence.

"And now we have some breaking news from England. King Henry VI has woken up from his coma!"

Her dark eyes glinted with interest. Pedro's ears also pricked up with interest. _'Pay attention to foreign affairs,' _his father once told him, _'You'll be trading with foreign nations, asking for aid, fighting against them, and it is wise to understand the situations they find themselves in, so that you can play it to your best advantage.'_

She knew this as well, and had already walked back into the room. Pedro saw footage of Queen Margaret as she waved and smiled at the crowds. Their son, the one year old Prince Edouard, grizzled as his nurse clutched him.

"What a horrible child," she remarked, "He must be almost a year old. I pity England if that's to be the future king."

"It may not be the case," Pedro replied, as footage of the Duke of York stomping disappointedly into his car was also shown.

"It may not," she agreed, "But, we ought to keep our eye on it."

"Oh, I have been," Pedro nodded, "Although to tell the truth, I don't know if I want the Lancasters to stay in power or not."

"Why is that?"

"Some of my family – my heirs if I die childless – are descended from John of Gaunt. They're Lancastrian, and they've got one eye on my love life and the other on my throne. If the Lancasters in England stay in power...then what's to say they wouldn't help their cousins usurp the princedom of Aragon? It would be easy enough – I don't have children, and my only brother's a bastard. One state visit to England, they could pay one of their football hooligans to stab me, make it look like an accident."

"Very true. But you are perfectly capable of handling them. And I'm sure you can marry your cousins off somewhere nice and they won't come bothering you."

"If only it were that simple," Pedro rolled his eyes.

"If only," she said, now seriously, "Speaking of which, I ought to take a look at what's going on in Verona. My home"

"This is your home."

"I have two homes," she replied firmly, "I am Spanish and I am Italian."

She switched the news channel over to an Italian one. Pedro knew some Italian. He knew a couple of languages, actually. His father had told him, _'You should make an effort to learn the language of your fellow princes, so you can converse with them in their mother tongues. That will gain you respect and make communication much simpler.'_

"So what makes you think you need to begin your career in Verona so badly if you consider both your homes?"

"Because look," she pointed at the television, "Look at the state of that city. Torn apart by feudal lords, governed by a weak-willed prince, and his government itself isn't much better. Aragon is in good hands. You are a good man, and you will be a good prince. Everything that I want to do, you can do yourself. What would there be here for me but to simply rise through the ranks? In Verona, there is so much to do. There are so many changes that must be made. And what I want to achieve...I want to work for it. I want to earn it on my own, with my mind and my hands. I want a challenge."

"Isn't there anything I can do that might change your might?" Pedro asked.

"What did you have in mind?" she asked, charmingly.

_'__It was now or never...to tell her how he felt...how he needed her by his side, and how only by his side could he face up to this destiny that his forefathers had laid out for him...he needed her charm, her charisma, her mind, her talents, her politically savviness...'_

"How about this?" Pedro asked, as he kissed her.

"That is it?" she frowned, "Kisses? You think that kisses are a sufficient reason to throw away my career and my future?"

Come next morning, and she was gone. Everything that might have indicated she lived here had gone too. She'd truly gone, and was on a plane to Verona this instance.

To this day, Amparo has no regrets.

* * *

><p><em>1<em>_st__ April, 2014  
><em>_Verona, Veneto, Italy_

"Next, please."

Amparo reclined back into the folds of Escalus' throne. Covered in purple velvet though it was, her legs and bum had gone numb long ago. She sat as regally as she could, as she was representing Escalus in his absence, but she was very sorely tempted to kick the throne out of the window and wheel up her office chair, with its familiar curves that outlined her frame.

Tancredo Capulet entered.

"Tancredo Capulet," said Amparo, surprised, "How may I help you?"

"I have come here to talk about the bill that you intend to pass," Tancredo narrowed his lips.

"Which one? We have sent several to the Council of Lords to be examined lately," replied Amparo, although, given Tancredo's station in the House of Capulet, she had a very good idea which one.

"The bill that will make all families follow equal primogeniture," Tancredo said, through gritted teeth.

"Oh, of course," Amparo smiled, deciding that being patronizing would be the best way to make him shut his disgusting moustache-covered mouth and piss off back to Paris "I expect, as a Capulet, you must feel very glad that your niece will be securely Lady in her own right, instead of her non-Capulet husband trying to take control, or say, one of her uncles trying to claim the title of Lord by flaunting his status as a male heir. Oh, wait, I just remembered. You are Juliet's uncle."

Tancredo took in a deep breath. He had a look of general nastiness in his eye, "Juliet will be Lady Montague," he said.

Upon the name 'Montague,' there was such a tone of bitterness that Amparo felt as though she had just forced Tancredo to swallow several tablespoons of salt.

"She will," agreed Amparo.

"She doesn't need to be Lady Capulet if she's busy being Lady Montague. It would be...too hard to for a young woman to undertake such a big duty," Tancredo tried to smile, as if he was playing the role of the caring uncle. It didn't fool Amparo. His body language and earlier tone of voice dissuaded her otherwise. And, from past experience and Gabriel's gossiping, she knew exactly what this pompous oaf was like.

"She could appoint a regent for her absences," pointed out Amparo, "She has a sister, doesn't she?"

"Yes, but Hermia is not suitable," Tancredo scowled, "It's too much on a young woman. And anyway, she won't have true Capulet heirs. I have sons, and I know they will have sons too when the time comes. If I am Lord Capulet, our name will carry on."

"And you have a daughter too," Amparo smiled, "Charming young lady. She and Mercutio filled my offices with balloons the other day."

"I disowned her. I'm not responsible for her behaviour in any shape or form!" snapped Tancredo.

"And what a shame that was," sighed Amparo. She sat upright, "You're a stupid man"

"Excuse me?" Tancredo seethed, turning purple.

"I said you were a stupid man," Amparo repeated confidently, "You're so ignorant and blind. In your quest to become Lord Capulet, you've neglected another quest which could have made your own daughter the Princess of Verona."

"She...the what?"

"Yes, stupid man, the Princess of Verona," Amparo settled back against the throne, to rub it in a little more, "She could be sitting where I am sitting right now. Shall I tell you how?"

"Fine!"

"When the Lords finish examining and debating the bill, and I sign it and it is passed, Escalus' daughter will be securely Princess of Verona in her own right when he dies. But, if anything, god forbid, because she is a sweet young girl, were to happen, her heir would be his eldest sibling, so that is...Adelaide, his sister. And Adelaide has two sons. Valentine is the elder, but he has voluntarily ceded any claim he may have had to Verona in order to become the Duke Consort of Milan when he marries Silvia. Which you have told me is what you wish for your niece to do. But, never mind, moving on from that. Adelaide's heir will be her second son. And her second son is Mercutio, who is...oh, yes! He's engaged to your daughter. And she has a son with him, doesn't she? So when my bill is passed, your daughter has a chance of becoming the consort of none other than the prince of this city, and after that, your grandson will rule as prince in his own right," Amparo finished.

Tancredo was speechless, "That...that kid they have together is a bastard!"

"Which brings me onto the next bill that will be passed. All future children of the nobility will be able to inherit in line of birth order, regardless of which side of the sheet they were born on," said Amparo, "So basically, bastards can be heirs and inherit. I think that it will reflect the modern day society that we are living in a little better, don't you?"

"That...no! That means that little brat Hermia will supplant me as my niece's heir! And then her little half-Montague brat!"

"You're not a very nice uncle," remarked Amparo.

"This isn't fair!" howled Tancredo.

"Life is not fair," said Amparo, "Now get out."

Tancredo turned and fled. Amparo sighed, sinking into the uncomfortable chair. Why they were still having this ridiculous argument of whether or not a woman could be Princess of Verona or a Lady in the Council of Lords in her own right, and particularly in this day and age, was beyond her. And why she had to repeat such simplistic basic information to such moronic oafs like Tancredo Capulet day after day was also beyond her. But it came with the job, she supposed. And Amparo liked to think she had done more in a few months than Angelo had done in six years.

Then she sat upright, and called out, "Next, please!"

A servant rushed in, "Amparo, you must come quickly. Mercutio is dangling off the chandelier and singing."

"Not again" Amparo leapt up, grateful to finally be free of the uncomfortable throne, but irritated at having to go and tell Mercutio off. That was one of the things she hated most about being a Deputy. Whenever she was attending to her duties, trying to get some work done, Mercutio would do something stupid, everyone would be distracted, and she had to deal with it. How Angelo had survived six years without_ killing_ him, Amparo had no idea. She ran down to the dining hall, and sure enough, Mercutio was dangling off the chandelier. How he even managed to get up there, Amparo once again, had no idea.

"I came in like a wrecking ball! I never hit so hard in love!" sang Mercutio, swinging to and fro, "All I wanted was to break you off! All you ever did was, wreck me! Yeah you, you wreck me!"

"Get down from there at once, Mercutio!" commanded Amparo.

"I led you high up in the sky, and now, you're not coming down. It slowly turned, you let me burn, and now, pressures on the ground. Don't you ever say, I just walked away, I will always want you. I can't live a lie, I will always want you," Mercutio continued to sing, ignoring her.

"Fine. You can stay there," said Amparo, "But when you drop, and you will because you don't exercise regularly and therefore don't have the stamina to stay clinging for much longer, you will drop at least twenty feet, and whilst you will probably survive, you will break your legs and be stuck in a wheelchair for six months. You won't be able to sing and dance and do silly things for at least a year as after being in a wheelchair for that long, you'll still need physiotherapy. Or, if you break more than just your legs, you could be looking at two years of your life without being able to do anything you want to."

Mercutio stopped swinging, and glanced down, "Could...could one of you fetch me a ladder?"

Amparo gave the servants their orders, and soon enough, Mercutio clamoured down off the chandelier.

"What in god's name were you doing?" she asked, when he stood in front of her.

Mercutio stuck his chin out defiantly, "Being Miley Cyrus."

"And why would you want to be her?"

"For funsies."

"You're a very strange person," remarked Amparo.

"I know! It's great!"

Amparo ignored him, "I had a visit from your father-in-law."

Mercutio stopped walking away, "What the bloody hell did he want?"

"He wanted to stop me from passing the bill about equal primogeniture."

"He wants to be the next Lord Capulet, I take it," Mercutio rolled his eyes, "Well, he's welcome to it. Since he's so skilled at being a boring, miserable, stuck-up assho-"

Amparo held up her hand to stop him, "That's enough. I just think I ought to remind you that when the bill is passed, you won't be last in line for the throne anymore. You will be third."

"So?"

"So you ought to watch your back," said Amparo, "People will be after you, and your family, to try and get you out the way"

Mercutio's bright green eyes flashed dangerously, "If they so much as touch Allegra and my baby boy, I will fucking destroy them."

"I don't doubt that," Amparo said, "But your enemies will seek anyway to discredit you. Your unruly mad behaviour is a target. There's half a hundred psychiatrists in Verona who will diagnose you with schizophrenia or bipolar disorder on the orders of your uncle Edmondo or your cousin Paris for a few thousand Euros, just so that they can say you can't cope with the pressures of ruling and crown themselves Prince instead."

"I'm not a schizo!" protested Mercutio, "And why are you talking about this? Uncle Escalus isn't dead! And neither is Sofy!"

"Prince Escalus isn't dead yet," corrected Amparo, "And neither is his daughter. Hopefully they never will be for a very long time. But if something were to happen, you need to be prepared. You have plenty of friends, don't you?"

"Of course I do!"

"Well, that strengthens your positions, as you have people who will stand up for you and help keep any enemies at bay. By marriage, you'll be allied to the Capulet family. Well, not Tancredo, obviously, but he doesn't count as he won't be Lord Capulet. And by close friendship and being a godparent, you're allied to the Montague family. And if I were you, I'd stop pranking and annoying Tybalt and Rosaline, and you'll have an alliance with the Oftmoro family through Rosaline's desire to be on the good side of the Prince of Verona."

"Actually, they're not just alliances. They're my _friends,_" Mercutio stated sarcastically, "And thanks to your nice little prank on Angelo last year, I haven't been in the good books of the Montagues for a while now."

"I did what I did because I saw it as necessary," said Amparo, "I don't think you've realised all the good that has come of Angelo's resignation. He's reconciled with his son, he has built a good relationship with his grandson, he's come out the closet, whilst here, I am passing bills that he was too scared too, changing the lives of the people in Verona for the better, and helping you to keep yourself and your family safe. The crazy act won't work for much longer, Mercutio. People won't just glance over you as just another cousin to provide for. I know you're not stupid. Stay close to your friends, keep a close eye on your enemies, and don't give anyone an excuse to discredit you."

"You still haven't said how I should get back into the Montague's good books!" Mercutio shouted after her as she left.

Amparo turned, "I said stay close to your friends. Your friends are the younger generation of Montagues. Don't worry about the elders. They'll be dead soon, and they won't help you."

Mercutio stared at her speechlessly.

Amparo smiled, "But...am I right in thinking that today is the 1st April? April Fools Day? Your birthday? And your 21st, too? Well, run along and join your friends out on the lawn, and have a wonderful day."

And with that she strode back to hear the petitioners.

* * *

><p>"Is it done?" asked Sofia impatiently.<p>

"Almost," replied Allegra, gently twisting the elastic around the end of the little princess' braid. She, Hermia and Juliet had always practised on each other's hair – well, on Juliet and Allegra's hair mainly, considering Hermia's had always been short, and it was fun to play with a little girl's hair again. Allegra let the blonde plait fall, and then turned Sofia around so she could adjust the stray wisps around her ears that had escaped.

"It's done."

"Thank you!" exclaimed Sofia, wrapping her arms around Allegra's middle. Allegra hugged her back, kissed her forehead, making the little princess giggle, and then held her hand as they walked through the gardens of the palace.

The birthday boy had just arrived, and had made himself comfortable by sitting upside down. His feet rested on the headrest of the chair and his crazy hair brushed the blades of grass. He wore a wide smile, as usual, and his green eyes glinted with mischief. Monty the dog sat slobbering next to him.

"Mercutio, you're giving me vertigo," groaned Benvolio, as he sat watching him. Eliseo chuckled, sitting on Hermia's lap.

"Hey, I'm the one who's birthday it is, you're supposed to give me stuff!"

"Then sit upright, you bloody clown!"

"Mercutio, sit upright!" Adelaide shook her head, "I can't believe I have put up with you for twenty one years now."

"Me neither, mum. We deserve a medal!" Valentine added.

"Happy birthday, Mercutio!" announced Sofia, as Allegra led her over "I have your present!"

"Aww, thanks Sofy!" Mercutio struggled upright, doing a back flip and a forward roll and almost accidently kicking his dog in the process. He staggered to his feet and picked his cousin up, giving her a hug. She squealed, and he set her down.

"Birthday kiss for the birthday boy," announced Allegra, leaping up to reach him. Mercutio grabbed her and held her up as he kissed her. She squealed like Sofia, and then he placed her down, ruffling her blonde hair. Allegra laughed, and reached up to ruffle his.

"Will you please just stop it with the public displays of affection?" groaned Romeo.

"Shut up, hypocrite!" retorted Mercutio, "You're one to lecture me on that topic. Anyway, where's my birthday present?"

"Don't be rude, Mercutio," warned Adelaide.

"I've got a card for you," Paris strode across the lawn and handed Mercutio a card.

"Oh, thanks Cunt Paris, I meant, _Count_ Paris," Mercutio smiled mischievously, "That's what you like everyone to call you, isn't it?"

Hermia and Allegra both snorted. Mercutio started to unravel his card. He held it out.

"That's a card for a two year old," Romeo frowned, "I thought Mercutio was twenty one?"

"Well, he doesn't act it!" swarmed Paris.

Sofia glared at Paris with all the malevolence of an angry seven year old, "You're horrible, you are!"

"Yeah, you tell him Sofy!" Mercutio ruffled his cousin's blonde hair, as Paris ran away.

"He's such a prick. I don't know what Helena sees in him," Allegra rolled her eyes.

"Open the next present," instructed Hermia, "This one's from Gabriel."

"Ugh, let me guess, it's some sort of hair product," said Benvolio.

"It's..." Mercutio trailed off. He held it out, "It is a hair product!"

"What is it?" Allegra reached over and grabbed it, "Frizz Ease, for unruly mad curls?"

"And he sent me a comb too," Mercutio held it up.

They all looked at each other.

"Typical," shrugged Juliet.

"It's the thought that counts," Romeo snorted.

"I'm amazed he didn't send something nasty after what you did to Amparo," Hermia added.

"So maybe I pranked her office...that's not a crime."

"You filled it with balloons," Benvolio shook his head.

"And? I thought perhaps she might have liked it. Balloons are fun!" Mercutio grinned, "Anyway, are they still even together?"

"Who knows? His relationship status on Facebook is 'It's Complicated' and he doesn't say much when I see him and ask him," Hermia replied.

Mercutio rolled his eyes, "Ah well. Gabriel said he'll be over with Alexei and his brothers this afternoon to say hello," he raised his eyebrows, "I'll thank him for this thoughtful and touching gift then."

"I heard he got parental custody over those two," said Benvolio.

"Yeah, he did!" replied Hermia, "Rosaline came round and told us."

"Why, what happened to their parents?" asked Romeo.

"Earthquake," mouthed Juliet.

"Earthquake?" Romeo repeated loudly.

"Ssh!" hissed Adelaide, pointing at Sofia.

"Oh! Oh, of course," Romeo quickly shut his mouth. Young Princess Sofia had lost her mother, Escalus' ex wife, in the quake. With Escalus as her remaining parent, she had come to live with them in the palace. It was about time, anyway, as Escalus' only daughter, and heiress, that she learnt how to be the princess, and ruler, that Verona needed.

Luckily, Sofia hadn't noticed, and delicately nibbled at one of the little cakes laid out on the table. Everyone sighed, relieved. No one wanted to bring up the topic of the earthquake again. The repairs to the palace had been conducted, and the garden had been refurbished and replanted. Many of the houses and roads had been repaired, and if they weren't, then the plans for rebuilding were being drafted, the first bricks had been laid, and the foundations had been dug.

But what couldn't be repaired was the grief that everyone felt for their losses. Sofia had lost her mother. Raiden and Linton had lost their parents. Gabriel and Amparo had lost their unborn child. The Montagues had lost their Ranch, and the Menelaus family had lost their second son, Demetrius.

"What are Raiden and Linton like, anyway? And how old are they? Do you think we'll get on with them?" asked Allegra.

"Raiden's fourteen. He's a quiet lad," said Hermia, "And Linton is twelve. He's a bit more outgoing. Remember when he stood in for Tudor during the musical?"

"Ahhh, the musical," Mercutio grinned, "I've written heaps now. People are hailing Edouard: The Musical, as the new Rocky Horror. It's got heaps of views on Youtube now. Mummy, are you proud of me?"

"Yes, Mercutio," sighed Adelaide. Mercutio grinned even wider, got up, and plonked himself down on her lap, "No, no, Mercutio! You're too big for this! Get off, you fat lump!"

"But mummy, I want cuddle!" cried Mercutio "Hugs!"

"No, Mercutio, that's enough!" insisted Adelaide, trying to shove him off. Mercutio climbed up, disappointedly, and then sat back down in his old seat. As if to make a point, he grabbed Micro, from where he was toddling around helping himself to food, plonked him on his lap and snuggled him.

"Dadda!" beamed Micro.

"Here's another parcel. It has an English return address on it. I think it might be from Ned and Dickon," Hermia handed it over.

"Oh, that reminds me. I've got to Skype Anne some time tonight. She's stuck at her sister's and she wants some company," said Juliet.

"She hasn't married Richard yet? Bloody hell, what's slowing them down?" asked Mercutio, as he unravelled his present.

"Some crap about her and her sister's inheritance. Clarence is getting pissy about it," explained Hermia, "Seriously, if I were Richard, I'd kick Clarence in the balls and just marry her. To hell with castles and land!"

"If only it were that simple," said Juliet, "What did they give you, Merc?"

"Oooh, it's a boxset of 'The Only Way Is Essex' and 'Geordie Shore!'"

"Oh God," groaned Adelaide.

"Here's my present to you," said Allegra quickly, passing it over, "Well, it's from Micro and Monty too."

"Aww, cheers, Monty, who's a clever doggy going to the shops all by himself?" praised Mercutio.

"Actually he got himself thrown out for chewing a man's shoe," replied Allegra.

"Good boy!" Mercutio scratched the black Labrador's ears. Monty closed his eyes contently, and then sat down with his head on Mercutio's lap.

"You and that dog," sighed Adelaide.

"Monty is my best friend. Until Allegra moved in, he used to sleep in my bed," scolded Mercutio.

"He still does most nights," admitted Allegra, "He climbs up and starts licking your face and then decides to walk around on your belly. Bad dog!"

"Yeah, bad dog. Go and do that sort of thing to Paris," said Mercutio, scratching Monty behind his ears.

"Ugh, Mercutio," groaned Adelaide, "Aren't you ever going to grow up?"

"No," retorted Mercutio, "Why would I do such a terrible thing? Why would I act maturely? Why would I sacrifice every part of me that makes me awesome?"

"You tell them, Wooshy-wo," said Hermia firmly.

"Oh no..." whimpered Benvolio.

"What is it, Bennykins?" asked Mercutio.

"It's...it's my sister."

The whole group turned around.

"Oh shit," cursed Hermia.

"What the fuck have you done?" screamed Benvolio.

"My highlights," gasped Beatrix, running towards them, "They've gone all wrong!"

"I'll say! You look like you've got seaweed hanging off your head!" giggled Mercutio.

"Shut up!" yelled Beatrix. Her usually long bleached blonde hair was tinted with green. She looked horrified. Her hazel eyes were wide and outraged. She wobbled precariously on pink heels.

"Beatrix...why?"

"Well, I've been dyeing my hair blonde for years now, I was fed up of going boring old golden blonde all the time, and I wanted to try something a bit...brighter! You know how everyone had gone crazy for platinum blonde hair because of Gabe's natural colour?"

"Oh God, Beatrix..." groaned Benvolio.

"I decided to do highlights, just to try it out. And now..."

"You stupid girl!" snapped Benvolio, "It's too bright for you! No wonder this has happened!"

"What's your natural hair colour?" asked Hermia.

"I can't remember," replied Beatrix.

"It's the same as mine!" exclaimed Benvolio.

"Yeah, that's why I dye it, ugly face," snapped Beatrix.

"Don't call him ugly!" snarled Hermia. Beatrix looked taken aback.

"Anyway...what do I do?" she blinked.

"You could...hurry up and give me my birthday present," suggested Mercutio.

"I haven't got you one," snapped Beatrix.

Mercutio's face crumpled. He threw his hands over his eyes and began to cry loudly.

"Beatrix! You made him cry!" scolded Hermia.

"I'm the one who should be fucking crying, my hair looks like fucking seaweed!" Beatrix tugged at it, "Oh, god, it's coming out!"

"This is hilarious!" snickered Romeo.

"It's not funny!" roared Beatrix.

"You might want to leave before Gabe turns up. You know he will laugh, especially if you tried to copy his hair," advised Hermia.

"God, you're right," Beatrix quickly tucked her hair behind her ears, "So...shall I go and get it dyed back?"

"Not if it's green and falling out. It's too weak to take the bleach. You'll probably need it cut short and have to go back to your natural colour until it gets strong again," said Juliet.

"I don't want it short! I'll look like a man! No, worse, I'll look like Benvolio!"

"Fuck off Beatrix!" cursed Benvolio.

"Fine! And I'll have my hair back to normal before you know it!" Beatrix yelled. She spun around, green locks flowing, before bumping into Gabriel and his brothers. Gabriel's own platinum locks were perfectly styled and perfectly intact, and his brothers matched him perfectly. Even Alexei, as he was cradled in Gabriel's arms, had perfect hair.

"Oh my God!" he giggled "What the hell happened to you?"

Raiden and Linton exchanged glances, before giggling as well.

"Don't ask," Beatrix stomped off.


	2. The Disasterous Dinner

RichardIII1955 - Haha! Thank you! Here is some more, as promised. You also get to meet Benedick now!

Moon Lantern - Thanks for your review! Obviously I've PM'd you to explain some of the stuff ;)

Corny - Wooo! So glad you're on board and you like Sofia!

Sorry for the wait! Had a tonne of deadlines at uni, and a load of shifts at work, then my laptop broke, but I've done them all and I'm home now where my computer tech dad can fix my laptop!

Uh oh! Mercutio may be twenty one, but he clearly is never going to stop being silly! So, how will his birthday dinner go down? And what about Beatrix?

* * *

><p>Benvolio arrived back at the townhouse that the Montagues were renting whilst their Ranch was being reconstructed. He could hear his aunt and uncle discussing something in the kitchen. They were probably talking about the building plans again. He parked Eliseo's pram in the hallway, and Hermia began to unbuckle him. Immediately, Eliseo charged out and ran into the living room.<p>

"Granddad! Granddad! Want to play!"

Benvolio heard the sound of his sister talking, and his dad replying. They broke off as soon as Eliseo ran in to greet him. He followed the sounds of their voices, with Hermia following him in turn. They stepped into the light and airy living room, and suddenly, he did a double take.

His mother was standing in the room.

"Mum?" gaped Benvolio.

She scowled at him.

"I'm Beatrix, your sister, you prat!"

Benvolio blinked. Of course. She was frowning at him, and his mum had never frowned at him.

But it was so easy to have made the mistake. Without her signature bleached blonde locks, Beatrix could have easily have passed for their mother.

Benvolio was suddenly filled with incredibly sense of longing. He wished it had been his mother. He wished that the years without her had been a strange dream, and that she had been here along. He wished she'd been lucky like Angelo, and survived.

"Don't call Benny a prat," Hermia retorted, bringing him back into the present, "You're the one who's a prat. You tried to dye your hair like Gabriel's!"

"Everyone is having their hair done like that! He's made it popular," Beatrix protested.

"I can't think why, it looks goddamn horrible on most Italians. Even Gabe himself would say so. He'd say," Hermia raised her voice to a high-pitched girly tenor, "Oh dear, they all look like cheap tacky clones of me, don't they? Seriously, if you have olive skin and warm undertones, platinum blond hair is not for you. You should stick to the dark and sexy look. Or, if you're that desperate to go blond, you should dye your hair medium brown and have warm, golden blond tones put in."

Beatrix stuck her lower lip out to sulk. Anthony simply sighed and shook his head, "At least you didn't have to have it cut short, Beatrix. You can still style it the way you had planned for Mercutio's party tonight."

"I'm going to look ugly," Beatrix continued to sulk.

"You look better with brown hair," said Benvolio.

"No, I don't, I look like you! I'm ugly!"

"Stop calling your brother ugly!" snapped Anthony.

"Daddy not ugly!" Eliseo blew a raspberry, "Uncle Tibby ugly."

Hermia sniggered.

"Well, we've brought the little tyke over to be babysat so we can get ready," said Benvolio, gesturing to his son, "Are you sure you'll be all right with him?"

"I'll be fine. He's never any trouble," shrugged Anthony, "Unlike Micro..."

"I just meant are you sure you'll be ok with missing Mercutio's party?"

"How can anyone not be ok about missing a party where the highlight of the evening will be having cake chucked at their head?" Anthony rolled their eyes, "I'll be happier here. Your aunt and uncle are going to cook us all a nice dinner and we'll crack open a bottle of wine."

"But it's Mercutio's twenty first birthday, it's an important date for him. We've always all gone as a family before."

Anthony shrugged, "Oh well."

Hermia tugged at his shoulder, "Leave it. We'll get ready. He doesn't know what he's missing."

They both hurried upstairs to where their outfits were waiting for them. As Mercutio was twenty one, Escalus had insisted on him having a 'proper, formal celebration,' as he put it. It seemed to everyone that he was trying to mould Mercutio into an adult by shoving him into adult situations.

Anyone with any sense at all knew that it would _never_ work.

Benvolio heard the flood of voices as Beatrix came upstairs. It was much smaller than Montague Ranch, so they could spy on each other and hear what the other was doing. Sometimes, Benvolio would lie awake listening to the whispered arguments and disagreements between his father, uncle and aunts. Sometimes, he wished he was staying at Capulet Manor, even if Tybalt was moody to him at best, the walls were even thinner, and the Capulets much more...explosive in their arguments.

"This year's income is not going to cover our expenses," said Paulina.

"We'll just cut back," Anthony replied, "We just won't spend so much."

"Impossible," said Claudio, "We've got all the rebuilding scheduled. We can't not build our own ancestral house!"

"And we have to pay for the rent of this place. It's less than what we've been paying out in upkeep for the Ranch for the past couple of years, but, when you think about the rebuilding and how much that will cost, every little extra is a pain," said Paulina.

"At least the kids can support themselves," said Anthony.

"Your kids can. If only Romeo would," Claudio replied.

"Don't start, Claudio," Paulina sighed, "It's our own fault for indulging him so much. But I just can't bear the thought of him fending for himself like that..."

The voices faded as Beatrix closed the door behind her. Benvolio wondered what disgusting concoction of an outfit she had pulled out now. It would probably make Mercutio laugh. Benvolio himself was wearing smart, formal trousers with an evening shirt, and Hermia, who in Benvolio's opinion always looked beautiful, was wearing a burgundy red chiffon blouse with the top buttons undone and tucked into her black skirt.

When they stepped out, ready to return to the Palace, Beatrix still wasn't ready. Benvolio pounded on the door and yelled at her to hurry up. How could Hermia be ready within a few minutes, and Beatrix still need half a day?

"Hurry up!" Benvolio shouted, "Hurry the hell up! Nothing you do is going to make yourself look any nicer!"

"Shut up, Benvolio! You can talk! You don't make any effort for anything and you look like a tramp!" Beatrix yelled back through the door.

"I do not!"

"Kids, shut up!" snapped Anthony, his voice carrying through the house, "Just get out of here if you're going to argue like that!"

"Fine!" Beatrix threw open her door and stormed out. Her newly brunette curls swung over her bare shoulders, and the plum purple dress she was wearing swayed as she wobbled on her heels. Benvolio gaped again. He'd seen her in this purple dress before, when she was a blonde, and she had looked horrible. But now, with dark hair...she actually looked quite beautiful.

"Stop gawking, you creep, and let's go. Since you insist I have to come out looking like shit!"

"You don't look like shit," said Benvolio.

"What do you know?" Beatrix rolled her eyes, and started to stomp out the house and down the road.

"Er, Beatrix, we're driving!" called Benvolio, "We're going in my car"

Beatrix spun around and stomped back.

"So how will we come home?" asked Hermia.

"In the car," replied Benvolio.

"But then you can't drink!"

"I don't mind," shrugged Benvolio.

"It's Merc's birthday, you've _got_ to drink!" insisted Hermia.

"Well, how will we get back?"

"We could walk."

"Ha! You mean, I could walk, and you could crawl," scoffed Benvolio.

"I don't crawl! I can handle my alcohol very well, thank you!"

"No, you bloody well can't. Either you crawl, or one of us has to carry you," Benvolio shook his head.

"Well, in that case we could just crash at Merc's place. It's not like there's not enough room in that palace!" snorted Hermia.

"We haven't packed our pyjamas or anything."

"Sleep naked," shrugged Hermia.

"Naked!" squealed Benvolio.

"Yes. Naked," Hermia taunted.

"Can you stop there, please?" groaned Beatrix, leaning out the car window, "I don't want to think about what Ben looks like naked!"

"Oh, thanks, Beatrix. I don't want to think about what you look like naked either," sulked Benvolio, as he climbed into car. Beatrix had climbed into the passenger's seat next to him, so Hermia had to cram into the back.

Hermia smiled mischievously, "Beatrix, did you know that Benvolio has the cutest little birthmark on his left hip? It's shaped kind of like a loveheart."

"Hermia!" blushed Benvolio.

"Yes, I did, and I have one like it on my right hip, except I'm going to get a tattoo over it as soon as I decide what to have!" shot back Beatrix.

"Ah, shame. I think it's adorable," Hermia leant forward, and wrapped her arms around Benvolio's shoulders, as he switched on the ignition.

"Well, I don't," snapped Beatrix.

Benvolio's cheeks were red. Hermia just laughed, and kissed his cheek, keeping her arms around his shoulders, and her head resting in the crock of his neck. Beatrix just rolled her eyes.

Finally, the car pulled in at the palace. Hermia jumped out, and helped Benvolio out. Beatrix staggered out, and they all trekked up to the door. As soon as they walked through the halls, they could hear a loud scream.

"What is that?" asked Benvolio.

"It's Mercutio having his hair brushed," replied Valentine, Mercutio's tormented older brother. Beatrix looked at him. Like her and Benvolio, Valentine and Mercutio were as different as could be. There was an age gap of two years, and if you stripped their appearance down to the bare minerals, eye colour, hair colour, height, they were very similar. But Valentine was calm and sensible, and Mercutio was...well, he was Mercutio.

"Someone is brushing Mercutio's hair?" gaped Benvolio, "I've known him for years and he's never once brushed his hair!"

"Same here," Valentine grinned, "Our mum seemed to approve of Gabriel's present, so she thought she'd put it to use straight away. Merc told me to come down here to greet you so Allegra's filming it for me."

"Oh, poor Mercutio. We better go and see if he's ok," said Benvolio.

"OWWWWWWWWWWWW!"

Hermia sniggered. Benvolio suppressed a giggle. Beatrix openly laughed.

"THAT HUUUUUUUUUUUUUURTS!"

Mercutio stumbled out, his hair now free of tangles but sticking out in all directions, "God, my mother is a bitch!" he cursed.

"Language, Mercutio!" she called.

"Oh, it suits you, Mercutio!" teased Hermia, "You look so smart and grown up!"

"Shut up, bitch!"

"Mercutio!" said Benvolio disgustedly, "Don't call her a bitch!"

"But she is my bitch, right Hermy?"

"Yep. And you're my bitch too, right, Wooshy-wo?"

"Hey!" Allegra leant over the banister of the elaborate spiral stairs, clutching her phone in her hand, "He's my bitch!"

"Sorry," Hermia pretended to pout.

"Can we eat the food now?" interrupted Beatrix, sick of her brother's gang of friends banter.

"I asked mummy the same thing but we have to talk to some rich pooheads first," replied Mercutio.

"Oh, joy," Benvolio rolled his eyes, "This is going to be fun"

Escalus strode out into hallway, "Ah, Mercutio! You look so grownup and smart."

"Fuck you."

"Excuse me?" Escalus frowned.

"I said puck you! With a P!" lied Mercutio.

"Go and greet the guests," commanded Escalus.

"I don't want to."

"They'll give you free stuff."

"Oooh, free stuff!" Mercutio bounded down the stairs, followed by Allegra. Valentine and his and Mercutio's mother soon followed.

Hermia held out her arm to Benvolio, "Shall we?"

Beatrix followed them. It was so unfair to be in his shadow.

"This is my nephew, Mercutio," said Escalus, smiling and greeting the guests, "He is twenty one today."

"Fish!" announced Mercutio.

The room stared at him.

"Never mind, let's sit down," said Escalus quickly. They all took their places.

"Oh look," whispered Benvolio to Hermia, "The Prince of Aragon is here too!"

"Who's that?" asked Hermia.

"Don Pedro. He's a Spanish prince. He's friends with several Italian lords from other cities, and accompanied them with some troops to England to fight against the Lancasters. They've all just returned."

"Well, that took them a while!" remarked Hermia.

"King Edward needed to keep some troops for a few months to help restore order and contain rebellions, but there are been a good solid peace for almost a year now. Most of our troops and the mercenary companies they hired from Greece have left now," added Juliet.

"Some of his court are here too," Benvolio noted, "There's his half-brother, Don John...his friend Benedick, the Paduan lord...and their mutual friend Claudio, who's a Florentine count..."

"Ah, Escalus!" Don Pedro smiled, as Escalus took his place nearby him, "When are you going to be so kind as to send Signorina Duarte back to Aragon to work for me?"

"I'm afraid I still have need of Signorina Duarte. Now that Signor Fulgencio's gone," Escalus looked sad for a moment, "I need her to get that bill through which will legalise equal primogeniture so that when I'm gone I'll be sure that my Sofy is safely princess in her own right."

Paris looked up. His eyes were flashing.

"Who pissed him off?" remarked Romeo.

"Escalus did," replied Benvolio.

"He didn't say anything. Just something about a bill and Sofia being princess," said Romeo innocently.

"Yeah, the bill that puts Paris where Mercutio currently is in the line of succession. Last." Benvolio rolled his eyes.

"But Paris is the only son of Escalus' younger brother, so why would he be-"

"You are such a moron, Romeo, do you even know what equal primogeniture is?"

"A gardening product?"

"No!" cried Benvolio.

"Shut up, Bennykins, no everyone is a stuck-up swot like you are," snapped Beatrix, relieved she wasn't the only one who didn't know what it was.

"Be quiet, Beatrix. He's not a stuck-up swot, he's intelligent," interrupted Hermia.

"Well, please elaborate, Ben, explain," said Romeo.

"Equal primogeniture is where a person's heirs are based in birth order, rather than gender," explained Benvolio, "If Amparo gets the bill through, then Sofia is safely princess, with her aunt, Adelaide, Merc's mum, after her, because she's Escalus' next sibling in age order. Then it will be Valentine, and then Mercutio, but Valentine has ceded his claim because he's marrying Silvia, so he'll be the Duke Consort of Milan, and can't be Prince of Verona at the same time. So that puts Mercutio after Adelaide, and then it's Paris' dad, and then Paris himself. So that's why Paris is pissed. Because previously, his father would have been able to challenge Sofia for the princedom as a legitimate male heir, and then after him, Paris would have been prince."

Juliet snorted, "That will teach him. Stuck-up pompous twit!"

"Yep, indeed." Hermia flashed Paris a big, cheesy grin down the table.

"Imagine if Merc did become Prince," said Romeo, his eyes wide as they watched Mercutio as he sat at the head of the table, trying to balance a spoon on his nose, "Think of all the fun we could have."

"Yeah, he could legalise weed and then we could all smoke it!" Hermia beamed.

"I hate weed," said Benvolio.

"Well, you don't have to smoke it," replied Hermia.

"No, but I have to smell it on you!"

The evening progressed on. Mercutio managed to make it through the starter and then begin the main meal without making farting sounds or chucking his dinner across the room. Escalus was starting to believe that this birthday dinner had been a good idea...

"Here is what I propose we do," said Hermia, clapping her hands together. A long line of gold bangles chimed and jangled along her arm, "We play a game where we go round in a circle, and say the most annoying thing that Mercutio has ever done to us."

There was some laughter.

"But the problem with that is that I won't know where to start," replied Benvolio. The hall laughed.

"What about the time he fraped you and changed your gender preferences to men and liked all those gay pages so now Facebook keeps advertising you gay clubs?" asked Romeo.

"I was hoping you wouldn't bring that up, Romeo, thanks a bundle," Benvolio rolled his eyes.

"Oh, I have one," said Beatrix, before she could stop herself. All eyes fell on her. Colour flushed to her cheeks, "I'm a beautician, and I work in a salon. One night, when he was on his gap year in Brazil, he got up at 4am in the morning to call my salon, pretending to be an angry customer who's noo noo had dropped off because I'd waxed it too hard."

Mercutio giggled delightedly, remembering his prank.

"Stop laughing!" snapped Beatrix, "Not funny!"

"It's hilarious!" giggled Hermia, "That was when I was expecting Eli, wasn't it?"

"Yes! Because I had my gap year when you were knocked up. I feel bad. I wish I'd been here for you more."

"I wish I hadn't been stuck in stupid France," added Allegra.

Hermia squeezed her cousin's arm, "You were here for me when I needed you most."

Beatrix rolled her eyes. They were all like part of one unit – Hermia, Benvolio, Mercutio, Allegra, Juliet and Romeo, and she was left out. They all had in-jokes and it creeped her out when they all laughed at something she found mundane.

Feeling out of place and inadequate, Beatrix rose to her feet, and walked out of the room, her brunette curls swaying after her. She slipped out the door, glaring at Benvolio, as Mercutio tried to tip vodka in his drink.

Eventually, she found her way out to fountain, and sat down on the ledge. She sighed, feeling the slight flecks of water tickle her bare shoulders and arms.

Everyone was paying more attention to Benvolio than they were to her. It was the exact opposite of when they had been kids. Beatrix had been loud and sassy, demanding attention, while quiet Benvolio had sat in the corner reading. Or occasionally talking and giggling with Romeo. Beatrix had always hated being the only girl child in the family. She had no one to hang out with. So she sought attention from her parents, her uncles and aunts. And got it.

But why did they want to talk to him? He was a boring loser. All he talked about was work, and university, and Eliseo, and dorky sci-fi tv shows, and crap!

But he had stuff to look forward to. He had people who he had those kinds of things in common with. And Beatrix had nothing to look forward to, or anyone to share anything with. She had her job, her flat, her car, but that was where the story ended. Was this where the story of Beatrix Montague ended, aged twenty? She hoped it didn't.

"I liked your story about Mercutio."

Beatrix swung around, "Who are you?"

"Lord Benedick Mountanto at your service," the voice moved out of the shadows and revealed himself to be a man. One of Prince Don Pedro's companions, as Benvolio had pointed out earlier, "And you are?"

"Beatrix Montague."

"Ah, that's a pretty name," he smiled, "I believe it means traveller, or voyager. Do you like to travel, Beatrix?"

"I partied in Ibiza and Magaluf with my girlfriends last summer," replied Beatrix.

"I take it as a no, then."

Beatrix frowned. Was he insulting her? If he was, Beatrix would not take it lying down. She would deal with him as she dealt with Benvolio. She'd fight fire, with more fire.

"Well, your name is far too similar to my puke-faced brothers for my liking."

Benedick smiled, "Sibling jealousy?"

"No," snapped Beatrix, "Why would I be jealous of that loser?"

Benedick shrugged, "I don't know"

Beatrix frowned, "And how the hell did you know he was my brother?"

"You look alike."

"We do not!" roared Beatrix, balling her hand into a fist and slamming it in the fountain, so water splashed all over her dress, "He's...he's ugly, and weird, and he smells, and he's got a big nose!"

"Isn't that a bit childish?" asked Benedick.

"However childish, it's extremely true," insisted Beatrix.

"Have it your way."

"Well, don't you have any siblings?" asked Beatrix.

"No, just me."

"Aren't you a lucky guy?" sighed Beatrix.

"Really? I get pretty lonely sometimes."

"It's not Benvolio's company that stops me from being lonely. We don't even talk sometimes, even if we're in the same house. We don't like any of the same things. There's nothing to talk to him about."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. And apparently twins are supposed to share some sort of special connection, but I'm telling you, there's none with me and Benvolio."

"You're twins?"

"Yep," Beatrix clenched her fists.

"That makes sense. I see it now," Benedick looked curiously at her.

"What? You're saying we're even more alike than you thought before? Because we are not! We are two separate people, not male and female equivalents of each other!"

"I never said that."

"Yeah, but you inclined it. Like everyone else on the planet does. I'm going back inside," Beatrix stood up, and marched back into the hall. The party was even further underway now, as Mercutio was now dancing shirtless on the table with his birthday cake on his head.

Escalus looked mortified.


	3. A Debriefing

RichardIII1955 - Yay! Glad you like Benedick! And that's exactly what I aim for, so thank you!

Cornadopia - Beatrix is going to be a main character in this story! We'll be seeing everything through her eyes o.0

Moon Lantern - Just as a reminder...never have hope for Mercutio!

Well, Beatrix has met Benedick! I can just tell it's love at first sight...not. So, what's going on with everyone else in Verona?

* * *

><p>"You know, Mercutio is never going to grow up," sighed Valentine, as he and Escalus walked down the corridor together.<p>

"No. I suppose not. I just find it hard to admit it to myself. I'm worried about him, you know," replied Escalus.

"We all are," Valentine agreed, "His behaviour is ridiculous. Don't get me wrong – he's my little brother and I love him to bits, even if he licks my elbow and sings the theme tune to Postman Pat at four am in the morning – but I just can't help but wonder what on earth will happen to him. I mean, what will he do once he finishes university? And what can he do with an art degree anyway?"

"Which is exactly what I'm thinking," Escalus shook his head, "Well, anyway, I can't dwell on it. He'll be going back to Venice for his exams at the end of the month, and I need to sort out the debriefing of the military personal who are arriving back from England. Don Pedro has arrived, and is willing to stay for a few weeks whilst we sort everything out, but I'm still waiting on the man who Athens sent in charge of their forces."

"Isn't that...Tychon Alanis?" asked Valentine.

"Yes, it was," said Escalus, "The name Alanis rings a bell, but I can't recall where."

"Me neither," said Valentine, "When do you think he'll arrive?"

"I have no idea," Escalus sighed again, "King Edward has been keeping our troops for as long as possible, claiming he needs them to suppress riots or further Lancastrian uprisings. Henry and Jasper Tudor have gone into exile, but Edward is insisting on being precautious."

"Tudor is what, thirteen?" asked Valentine, "What will he do? Have a teenage tantrum and throw spot cream across the room?"

"Edouard managed to get his way having a few teenage tantrums," warned Escalus.

"And look what happened to him," Valentine smiled, "I don't usually approve of Mercutio being rude and insensitive, but that musical he wrote about Edouard is well-warranted."

Escalus shook his head, but he smiled too, "I suppose to Mercutio's credit, I believe there's a secret creative genius underneath all his craziness."

Valentine smiled back. Sometimes he envied his brother's creative side. He'd never been able to get in touch with that side of himself, and had stuck to interests in topics that were a little more clear-cut and required less imagination.

"But back on topic," said Escalus, "For the debriefing, when Tychon finally does arrive, we also need the person who signed the command to send our armies over to England, and who organized the Greek mercenary companies to fight for the Yorkists, which is Angelo."

"He's still in Verona, just looking after his grandson," replied Valentine, "We can just give him a call."

"I don't think it will be as simple as that," replied Escalus, "I don't think he'll want to come back."

"Why not?"

"Various reasons. He's been lying low. I tried to call him a couple of times, but Gabriel answered and said he was busy or something. Well, that's the polite version of what Gabriel said. He actually told me to go and – well, you don't need to know."

"What were you calling him for?" asked Valentine.

"To talk."

"About what?"

"Just stuff in general," Escalus shrugged, "I got on well with him when we worked together. I considered him one of my friends. I was upset when I had to suspend him and sorry to see him hand in his resignation."

"I hadn't realised."

'_No, of course you hadn't,' _Escalus thought, _'No one ever thinks that I am a person under the title of prince. No one ever thinks that I might want to have friends like a regular man or have likes and dislikes contrary to my public office. I think perhaps only my sister and Mercutio understand.'_

"Well, never mind," said Escalus. They turned a corner. Some servants were standing on step-ladders, and unstapling items from the ceiling. Don Pedro, Benedick and Claudio were standing underneath, and occasionally reclaiming the items when they were brought down.

"What's going on?" asked Valentine.

"It was your brother, Mercutio," replied one of the servants, "He went into the guest's rooms last night, took all their socks and stapled them to the ceiling."

"Oh, for goodness sake!" groaned Escalus. He turned to the three men, "I am so sorry, he is such an idiot, I-"

"It's ok," said Don Pedro, as he folded two together back into a pair, "I gathered that this was his typical behaviour after dinner last night."

"I will tell him off next time I see him," promised Escalus.

"No need," said Don Pedro, "I think this is the most entertaining visit we've ever had, what do you say?"

"Indeed. I spent last night in the company of Miss Beatrix Montague. She had some very interesting things to say about her brother," said Benedick.

"What did she say about him?" asked Valentine. Of all of Mercutio's friends, Benvolio was the one he liked the best. He was polite, friendly, and not overly crazy. Sometimes he could even be a good influence on Mercutio. Sometimes.

"She seems to be jealous."

"Jealous? She hates him," Valentine looked perplexed. For as long as he could remember, every time his mother had taken him and Mercutio to spend time with the Montagues, Beatrix and Benvolio would be squabbling and arguing. Which was ironic, really, because Benvolio rarely argued with anyone.

"That could possibly be the reason for their hatred," stated Benedick, "Do you know her well?"

"I'm a family friend," explained Valentine, "My brother is Benvolio's best friend"

The servants brought down the last of the socks, and handed them back with a bow. Claudio thanked them, and they took the ladders away.

"Anyway, I must go and finish attempting to contact Tychon Alanis," said Escalus, "Valentine, do you have anything of import today?"

"Not particularly, although I was planning to spend some time with Merc whilst he's home from uni."

"Have a good afternoon then," said Escalus, patting his eldest nephew on the shoulder.

* * *

><p>It had been a quiet few months.<p>

Angelo finished laying Alexei down for a nap, and then wandered through the house. Gabriel was no longer dancing due to the reparations that had to be made to his company's theatre, and had got a different job as a multilingual interpreter. Angelo had been thrilled. It was a more stable job and had much more opportunities for his polyglot son. Raiden and Linton were at school. Gabriel had got custody of them as their only remaining living relative after Angelo's ex wife and her partner were killed in the earthquake. Angelo had been saddened to hear of Lina's death. True, their marriage had been stormy, and Angelo could safely say he no longer loved her, but she had been the mother of his only son, and the grandmother of his grandson. And so, for Raiden and Linton's sake, he'd let Gabriel look after them here in his mansion, so they had the security of a home.

But the thing was, when Alexei was asleep, and Gabriel at work, and the two boys at school, Angelo was _bored_. He'd been unemployed for months, didn't have a partner, and didn't go out much because he didn't want to attract any negative attention.

It had been quite nice at first, to just stay in the house and rest. The weather had been cold and bitter, and Angelo was still recovering from the radiotherapy. He'd happily lain in bed until almost midday, reading books he hadn't had a chance to before resigning, watching crappy daytime telly, and best of all, spending time with Alexei.

Now, however, the days stretched out long before him, and Angelo wished there was something to do. He sat in the front room, the warm April breeze floating through the window and the sunlight lighting up the blue colour theme of the room. The breeze ruffled his dark hair, and Angelo wondered whether or not he'd need to get Gabe to help cover up his grey streaks anytime soon.

He closed his eyes, wondering whether or not he should just drift off and take a nap. He could if he wanted to, after all, and if Alexei needed him, then the baby monitor was a few feet away...

The phone rang just as Angelo closed his eyes and grew heavy and content. He jolted back into the present, and hurried over to the handset. It was probably someone trying to sell him something, but it would be nice to talk to someone.

"Hello?"

"Angelo!"

"Escalus?" frowned Angelo, "Is everything all right?"

"Everything is fine," replied Escalus, "How are you?"

"I'm good."

"And how's the little one?"

"Alexei? Oh, he's fine," said Angelo, wondering why on earth Escalus had rung him to ask about Alexei. He was the prince, surely he had better things to think about than his former Deputy's grandson?

There was a pause. Escalus went on, "So...what's he like?"

"Er, what do you mean?"

"Has he grown much?"

"Yeah, he's grown loads. He's going to be tall when he's older. He's been babbling and smiling, and he's starting to learn how to walk. Gabe keeps trying to get him to say daddy but he's still only babbling."

Escalus cooed, "Oh, I'm glad to hear you're all ok. I haven't heard from you in months. It's like you disappeared of the face of the earth."

"Well, I...wanted a break from it all, really. Time to recover."

"Of course. I understand. How, um, are you now?"

"I'm...getting better," said Angelo steadily. The truth was, the problems he was now facing in the wake of his treatments were not ones he particularly wanted to talk about with the sovereign prince of Verona. Talking to Gabriel about it was embarrassing enough, especially as one evening Linton and Raiden had been caught listening and giggling with their ears pressed against the door.

"Ahhhhh!" cooed a voice. Angelo turned around. Alexei was sitting delightedly on the carpet, clutching his favourite cuddly dragon.

"Hold on a minute, Escalus," Angelo pulled the phone away from his ear, "Alexei! How did you get out of your cot? And how did you get down those stairs?"

" 'agon!" Alexei giggled, waving his dragon in the air, " 'agon!"

"Naughty boy," said Angelo, awkwardly picking him up and balancing the phone at the same time.

" 'agon!" Alexei announced, grabbing the phone and speaking into it.

"No! Leave Granddad's phone alone!"

Alexei just giggled again. Angelo wrestled away the phone, and then sat down with Alexei on his lap.

"I'm sorry about that. He's somehow climbed out the cot, come down the stairs, hauling this cuddly dragon toy he has with him, and now he's being a little monster."

Escalus just laughed, "He's a bright young lad. I'm so pleased to hear how well you're all getting on."

"So am I. Thank you," said Angelo quietly.

"But I have something I need to ask you."

"I see."

Usually, Angelo would have leapt at the chance to do something for Escalus. He would have done anything to help his prince, seeing it as his duty, but now he hesitated.

"You see, do you remember last summer, with the wedding?"

"Yes," Angelo cringed. It had been a horrible time for him.

"Well, our troops and the mercenary troops we hired to send to the Yorkists are returning soon, and we need to have a debriefing session about, you know, the usual stuff, and also to discuss whether or not we ought to continue with our assistance if the Lancasters were to return. I'd like your opinion on that as well, if it's all right."

"I thought they were all dead?"

"No, Henry Tudor and his Uncle Jasper are out there."

"Henry Tudor is thirteen years old. His claim to the throne is through illegitimate descent, and from a woman in a country that practises male-preference cognatic primogeniture. He has no allies, no money, and no way of procuring any. He's not going to try anything," dismissed Angelo, although he decided not to mention the Skype conversations he'd overheard Gabriel and the exiled Lancastrian heir having, regarding Henry's plan to "bash up all those Yorkists who won't even let me have Edouard's iPad."

"Yes, but King Edward won't take any chances. And I think we ought to be prepared. I know you've finished with politics now, Angelo, but we need you here for the debriefing. You signed the command along with me, and its protocol that you should be here."

"I see," sighed Angelo.

Alexei turned around. He shook his dragon again, " 'agon!"

Angelo looked at his grandson. He'd been living in such a bubble these past few months. It had been blissful to sink into ignorance. Did he really want to leave it so soon? Did he really want to go back to the place that had almost ruined his life?

'_It'll only be for one day. Maybe even a couple at best, if it drags on. It can't hurt. It might be good to see Ralph and Clive again. Maybe even check up on whether Amparo's doing her job properly, ambitious little bitch. And maybe even see if Mercutio has managed to blow up his bedroom yet.'_

"When does it start?" asked Angelo.

Escalus beamed, "As soon as Tychon Alanis arrives"

* * *

><p>"Beatrix, get up. You've got to be at work by nine."<p>

"Fuck off, Benvolio," cursed Beatrix.

"Last night you begged me to wake you up so you wouldn't be late!" protested Benvolio.

"Yeah, that was last night. This is this morning. And this morning, I want you to fuck off," snapped Beatrix, pulling the duvet over her head.

"Fine. Lose your job. I don't care. It's not my problem!" Benvolio stormed out.

"Twat!" Beatrix yelled after him. She yanked the duvet over her head and simmered in the warmth. He was such a little shit. Couldn't he just leave her alone to sleep? She couldn't wait until he was back at university, then she could have their dad all to herself again. It was a pity this time Benvolio would only be there for a month this term to do his exams. Beatrix was pretty sick of his revision notes and posters being left lying around the house. None of them made any sense and they all got in the way of everything.

"Beatrix, get up!" snapped her dad, banging on the door, "It's half eight!"

"I'm tired!" Beatrix retorted.

"You've still got to go to work!" Anthony snarled.

"Fine, I'm up!" Beatrix leapt out of bed, and started hunting for her uniform. Anthony stormed back downstairs. Beatrix chucked on her uniform, brushed her (still) brunette curls, and then proceeded to slap on as much makeup as humanly possible to cover her tired face. Since having her hair dyed back to brown, Beatrix found she could get away with wearing much darker colours, so, today she did. When she was done, she put in sparkly earrings, a sparkly necklace with a B for Beatrix on it, and a sparkly bangle.

When she made it into the kitchen, Benvolio was already washed, dressed, and feeding Eliseo as he made notes off of a textbook. He glanced up.

"You look awful."

"You look like a deformed toad," retorted Beatrix.

"Oh, now, there's a new one. Maybe you've finally started using the creative side of your non-existent brain."

"Whatever, loser. Where's my cappuccino?"

"I don't know," shrugged Benvolio.

"Unca Ro-mo have it!" squealed Eliseo.

"Bastard!" snapped Beatrix, "Give me some Euros so I can buy one"

"No chance. Ask Romeo."

"You let him get away with drinking it, therefore you have to give me some money!"

"No chance! It's not my responsibility to control what Romeo does and doesn't drink."

"But it's my cappuccino," seethed Beatrix.

"I don't care," Benvolio gloated. Eliseo giggled. Beatrix grabbed her bag, and stormed out. She had ten minutes to get to work, park her car and get her cappuccino. She slid into the car, started the engine, wonkily drove out of the driveway, and started on her way to work. She parked the car, and then ran quickly over to the nearest Starbucks. There was a massive queue, and some dumbass old people were making a hash of ordering and then handing over their change. Seriously, it wasn't hard. Beatrix rolled her eyes, and then made her order when they left.

Finally, she had it. Beatrix took a sip, and enjoyed the sensation of her daily dose of caffeine go to her brain. Perfect. Now, she could survive the day.

She started to strut along in her pink heels, and opened the door. She strutted out, and then, out of nowhere, there he was.

Benedick.

Beatrix collided with him, and felt the hot coffee pour down her white uniform. She shrieked and squealed.

"You idiot! You made me ruin my uniform!"

"You should have looked where you were going instead of admiring yourself strutting in those silly shoes," retorted Benedick, steadying himself.

"I was not," Beatrix scowled, trying to steady herself.

"Oh, really? I notice women doing that all the time."

"And? They look good," Beatrix snapped.

"So you _were_ admiring yourself strutting in those silly shoes."

"I was not!" Beatrix nearly yelled, "Now look, you've ruined my uniform and now I'm late for work, thanks to you!"

"If you looked where you were going and got up ten minutes earlier, none of this would have happened."

"Wait, what?" Beatrix swirled around. How did he know about this morning?

She was about to ask him more, but he was walking off. Beatrix boiled with anger.

"Here, enjoy the rest of my ruined coffee!" she shouted, and flung the half empty cup over him. It splattered across the back of his shirt impressively. Beatrix goggled, and scarpered before Benedick could turn around and reply. In spite of the morning's antics, Beatrix was there for nine 'o' clock on the dot, and at least they had spare uniforms in the back.

After spending a day manicuring nails, plucking eyebrows, and waxing people's private parts, Beatrix got back in the car to go home. The drive home was painful and tedious. All Beatrix wanted was a bath, and a sit down, but the traffic was bad, and all the typical crazy Italian drivers were being impatient and risky.

When she got home, Romeo was using the only bathroom that actually had a bath, not a shower. It sucked being in a rented townhouse instead of the Ranch. Beatrix hammered on the door and yelled at him to hurry up, but he replied he was going out on a date with Juliet, and needed to look his best.

"You see her everyday and every night, why would she care about what you look like?" Beatrix yelled through the keyhole, "You prima donna!"

"I'm not a prima donna, I want to look good for my girlfriend! If your boyfriend turned up looking like shit you'd dump him. I don't want to get dumped!"

"She's not going to dump you, she loves you! Twat!"

Beatrix left it. He wasn't going to leave anytime soon, so she may as well give up.

"Haha, Beatrix can't have a bath!" taunted Benvolio, singing through his open bedroom door, "Beatrix smells of sweat and nail formula, and she can't have a bath!"

"You little-" Beatrix rounded on her younger twin, but then they were interrupted by the sound of voices coming from downstairs.

The bathroom door opened. Romeo peered out, "Is there someone in the house?"

"I don't know," said Beatrix, "I didn't see anyone on my way in."

"Yes, there is," said Benvolio.

"Who?"

"Go and find out," shrugged Benvolio, "I was down there talking to them earlier, but then I had to come and do some more revision."

"Whatever, swot," Beatrix rolled her eyes. She made her way back downstairs, and opened the door to the front room. Her Aunty Paulina was seated, and her Uncle Claudio was beside her. Her dad Anthony stood up. Benedick and two other men she didn't recognise were also seated and standing up.

"Ah, Beatrix. You're back," said Anthony. He seemed vaguely happy.

"Yeah, I got back ten minutes ago," Beatrix glanced around the room and glared at Benedick, "What's he doing here?"

"Beatrix, don't be rude."

"That man made me chuck my cappuccino over myself this morning," Beatrix said angrily.

"They didn't get here until after you left," said Paulina.

"No, I had to buy my cappuccino in town this morning, because your son drunk my last one. Idiot," Beatrix sniffed.

"Beatrix," scolded Anthony, "Mind your manners."

"Can I also add that you then chucked your cappuccino over me?" asked Benedick.

"No. Shut up," said Beatrix. She turned to her family, "One, why is he here, and two, who the bloody hell are all the rest of you?"

"I am Prince Don Pedro, of Aragon."

"And I am Count Claudio, from Florence."

"We share the same name, so try not to get too confused, Beatrix," said her uncle Claudio.

"Yes, we know you can't always tell salt from sugar," added Benedick.

Beatrix scowled, "That was deliberate. I don't know who told you about that time, but I deliberately put salt in that coffee because it was for Mercutio."

"Why would you make Mercutio coffee? He's hyper enough!" asked Benedick.

"It..." Beatrix trailed, "Was a decoy. I was going to make two coffees. One for me, and one before that so Mercutio would drink the first one and leave the next one alone. And it worked perfectly. He spat it out and ran away."

"Perhaps we will have to think of something similar if we don't want any more pranks to be played on us," Claudio nodded to Don Pedro.

Don Pedro nodded, "You're a bright girl, Beatrix."

"I sincerely hope that's sarcasm!" shouted a voice from upstairs.

Beatrix seethed, "That little cunt..."

"Beatrix, that's no way to talk in front of guests, and especially not a prince!" scolded Anthony, "And especially when we'll be family soon!"

"We...what?" Beatrix frowned.

"We thought we'd have a little celebration this afternoon," explained Paulina.

"Of what?"

"Your cousin's engagement!"

"He's been engaged for ages," frowned Beatrix, "He couldn't wait to stick a ring on Juliet's finger, and we're still trying to stop them from flying off to Gretna Green-"

"No, Beatrix, your other cousin," said Anthony, "Your maternal cousin."

"Ohhh."

Beatrix hadn't seen the maternal side of her family since her mother's death when she was ten. Briony Montague hailed from Messina, in Sicily, from a cadet branch of the Montague family. Beatrix knew little of her family's history, but she did know that the Montagues were originally from Sicily, until their heir was granted lands and a title in Verona by doing a great service to the current prince. He decided to move to Verona and make his ancestral seat there; leaving behind his younger brother to hold the lands and titles they had in Sicily as regent. As time went by, and generations went by, the Montagues built up their wealth and power in Verona, and soon began feuding with the hot-tempered Capulets from the other side of town, and the Montagues left in Sicily continued to manage and build their wealth and power.

The rest, they say, is history.

Briony had lived in Sicily with her parents and her brother, Leonato, until deciding to travel to Verona to meet and explore the other half of her family. When she got there, she fell in love with Anthony, the younger brother of the current heir. Many of Anthony's peers, Shylock, Angelo Fulgencio, Regina Capulet, Camilla Oftmoro, wondered how on earth such a sweet girl like Briony could find something lovable about someone like Anthony, but, evidently, she had, because she married him, and given birth to twins. Meanwhile, Leonato had married a woman called Innogen, and they had one daughter, who was their cousin, Hero.

Beatrix could see why they hadn't come to Verona to visit. Verona was where their beloved Briony had wasted away from cancer. It contained nothing but bad memories and grief. They had kept in contact through Facebook and Skype, and from that, Beatrix could already tell that Benvolio's demeanour and characteristics was shared by most of them. Sweet, gentle-natured, and easily walked over...

"So...which one of you is she marrying, or has Hero taken up polygamy?" asked Beatrix, covering up her sensitive moment of musing over her mother.

"Beatrix, don't be silly," scolded Anthony.

"She's marrying me," said Claudio.

"Ah, damn. And there was me hoping she'd snagged a handsome prince," said Beatrix disappointedly.

"Beatrix!"

Don Pedro just laughed, "I helped you along the way, didn't I?"

"Indeed you did," Claudio smiled gratefully at his friend.

"Well, what I want to know," said Beatrix. All eyes turned on her, "If you're here in Verona, and before that, you spent the past few months in England fighting Lancasters...how did you meet her and how did you propose?"

"We knew each other from before I left. And last night, I proposed on Skype," explained Claudio.

"That's so romantic!" crooned Romeo from upstairs.

"When will the wedding be?" asked Beatrix.

"Sometime in the summer," said Claudio, "After everything here has finished and when everyone who has exams has managed to finish them. We'll be going to Sicily."

"Sicily, in the summer? Sounds like hell for those who hate extreme heat," Beatrix smiled, and then turned to call up the stairs, "Doesn't it, Benvolio?"


End file.
